#holly hell this is giving me cuteness aggression

[hailthegodsong]

BBBBBBBABY

📸 gvfworld

[mushrubes]

22 | Escape

I was made for lovin’ you

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Pairing : Eddie Munson x (they/them) Henderson! reader 

 Summary : The group manage to communicate, Dustin able to use his new knowledge and lead them to Eddie’s trailer where there was another gate, the teens escaping from the adults. However, will the five of them be able to escape the upside down before Vecna attacks?

Word count : 1.4k

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"Hey!" Holly shouted as Lucas kneeled on the sofa, leaning over and pulling the plug out, turning off the power for her toy. "I'm sorry!" Dustin apologised, grabbing toy and Lucas grabbed the rest of the things and Erica handed her and pack of skittles. "For your understanding!" She exclaimed, Holly holding on to them and looking back at the group confused. Dustin pushed Nancy's door open, placing the Lite Brite on the bed and scrambling, placing the beads on the board. "Come on. Come on." Y/n muttered, Eddie smiling at them, assuring them they'd be fine. "Okay, that's it. Go, go, go." Dustin demanded once the board was covered, Lucas plugging it in and switching it on. "Okay, you guys seeing this?" Dustin asked, patiently waiting for an answer. "Seeing this?" they heard Dustin say, Y/n reaching their hand in, everyone smiling as they moved it around.  The board shone brighter, Erica, Dustin and Lucas all getting excited. "Holy shit!" Erica cheered, Dustin laughing and shaking her slightly.

"We're not moving it, but we're gonna unplug it, stand by. Yank it!" Dustin told Lucas, him following the orders and pulled the cable out. "Okay, try it now!" Dustin suggested, praying it would work. "Okay, um, uh...Hi." Y/n started with, hearing Dustin's laugh echo throughout the room. "H... Hi! That worked!" he assured, everyone cheering, Y/n moving out the way for Nancy to communicate. "Hi!" Eddie responded, leaning forward with excitement and making y/n laugh with the slightly aggressive tone. "Okay, um..." Nancy paused, thinking of what to say to make it quick and easy. "S...t...u..c...k. 'stuck.'" Dustin said, trying to figure out what they were referring to. "They're stuck in the upside down!" Lucas worked out, Dustin thinking of what to ask. "Uh, you can't get back through Watergate?" he asked, earning a confused look from Steve.

"What the hell's Watergate?" he asked, looking at the group for answers - particularly Y/n, hoping they'd understand their brother. "'Cause it's in water and it's a gate." they told him, Steve slowly nodding, muttering an 'oh'. "That's cute." Eddie said, tilting his head and pulled a face, giving it to Dustin. "Um, no. It's...uh..." Nancy said before spelling the word out. "G...u...a...r...d....e...d. Okay, uh, Watergate’s guarded. Okay, we think we have a theory that can help with that." he said, hoped the message would get through. "...Genuis child." Y/n muttered, feeling proud of him. "We think that Watergate isn't the only gate. That there's a gate at every murder site." he said. "...murder site." they heard, making the group even more confused as to why he was saying. "Does anybody understand what he's talking about?" Nancy interrogated, everyone shaking their heads no so she drew a question mark. "Seriously? How many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me!" he ranted, the group listening to him.

"Jesus Christ, this kid's gotta get his ego in check." Steve commented, Eddie and Y/n agreeing. "it's his tone, right?" Eddie added, looking at Y/n to make sure they were okay with what they had said about their brother. "Yeah, no, totally agreed." they second, shaking their head at their brother's rant. "Wait...okay! I know what he means! So…so how far is your trailer, Eds?" Y/n asked, turning to him. "Seven miles." he informed them, Y/n nodding before turning to Nancy. "Uh, I know your house here is, like, weirdly, creepily frozen in time and shit, but haven't you always had bikes?" they asked, Nancy nodding. She got up, heading out to the garage with the others. "There's only four bikes, someone will have to share or something." Steve pointed out, looking at the group. "Y/n can share one with me! If that's okay with them, of course." Eddie suggested, looking over at them as they nodded, getting onto the bike, standing on the ledge on the back wheel. "Here, so you don't fall off." Eddie said, putting their hands on him so they could cling on for support.

"Oh, little pigs, oh little pigs. Let officer Callahan in." he sung, tapping the door lightly before opening it and walking in. The room was empty, the window wide open and clattering was heard outside. "Hey! Excuse me! No, get back here!" he shouted, leaning out the window as they quickened their pace, alerting the adults downstairs. "Lucas! Dusty! Lucas! Erica! get back here!" the parents called, running out the house but giving up as they saw them already halfway up the street.

---------------

They chucked the bikes to the side, stumbling over to Eddie's trailer. "That's gotta be a Guinness world record for most miles travelled interdimensionally." Robin panted, catching her breath again. They all walked in, gazing at the beaming red gate in front of their eyes on Eddie's ceiling. "This is where Chrissy died. Like, right where she died." Eddie recalled, grimacing as he had flashbacks from that night. "I think there's something in there." Robin muttered, leaning forward as the middle dipped. "What the hell is that?" Eddie said, stepping back and putting an arm in front of Y/n. Suddenly something stabbed through, making them all yelp and jump backwards. "Hi there!" Dustin laughed, Erica, Lucas and Max all waving as the rest of them waved back, letting out relieved sighs. 

Max and Lucas carried through the old mattress, placing it under the gate while Erica and Dustin tied together all the bed sheets and covers, they could find, making a rope. "Those stains are, uh...I dunno what those stains are." Eddie gave up, glaring at Y/n who sniggered while Robin and Nancy gave him side glances. "Not quite sure how these physics are gonna work. But, uh...here goes nothing." Dustin said, throwing the make shift rope through. Y/n and Eddie stood back, letting the others watch. "Hey Eds? What's...what's your favourite song, in case anything happens?" Y/n questioned, playing with the rings on his fingers. Eddie thought about it for a second, debating it in his head. "Honestly, probably Master of puppets, since it came out recently." he admitted, Y/n nodding, a small smile appearing as they silently thanked the lord, having got the cassette a few weeks ago. 

"What about you?" he asked, intertwining his hands with theirs. "...That's a hard question. Probably...I was made for lovin' you? by Kiss?" they said, Eddie frowning, trying to remember how it goes. "Remind me of what one it is again." he asked, Y/n biting their tongue but giving in. "'I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for loving me.'" they sung, Eddie trying to hide his grin and still putting on the facade that he didn't know it. "You really don't know it?" they gawked, Eddie bursting out laughing, unable to hold it in any longer. "No, no, I do know it, I just wanted to hear you sing. You've got a nice voice." he complimented, Y/n going to respond but being cut off.

"Guess I'm the Guinea pig." Robin slightly joked, lifting herself onto the rope and using her body weight to climb up it. Once through, she fell, landing flat against the mattress. "Oh, thank God. That was fun." she commented, smiling up at the others as Dustin helped her off. Next was Nancy, Steve helping her up and she climbed, laughing as she hit the mattress, Max helping her off and to the side where she joined Robin. Eddie, Y/n and Steve all looked between each other, silently arguing over who goes next. "All right, guess I'll go." Eddie volunteered, climbing up and also falling through. 

"That...was fun." he agreed with Robin, smiling through to Y/n and Steve. "Come on Y/n/n!" he called, sending a thumbs up. They nodded at him before turning to Steve. "See you on the other side." Steve commented, Y/n nodding and repeating his words as he gave them a boost, Y/n pulling themself up as they braced for the impact that never came. Instead, they found themselves tumbling through darkness, completely silent. The only thig they could hear was their shout, grunting as they hit the ground. Their heart sunk as they noticed where they were, the flashback playing in their mind, unable to escape out of it. "Y/n? Hey! Hey! Stay with me, Y/n! Hey! Y/n, wake up! Wake up! Y/n!" Steve shouted, shaking their body as Dustin and Eddie tried to shout through too. 

"Vecna."

[jombocostello]

Lost in Translation (Polnareff x Reader)

Anonymous asked: Hey! Would you mind writing a little Polnareff fic where the reader tried to learn French pick up lines to finally drop some hints, but messes up/forgets a word and gets embarrassed? 🥺

Now this is just too sweet. I changed the request up a little bit, I hope you don’t mind!! (Also if you spot any mistakes with the French, please let me know!! I’m not sure how much my high school education of French prepared me for writing Polnareff fanfiction lmao)

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"(Y/N), what the hell are you doing?"

You jump, tearing your eyes from the book you're scouring. You look at Joseph, who's sitting a few feet away from you on his hotel bed. He frowns. "It's three in the morning. Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I... Well..." You laugh nervously, attempting to discreetly slide the book under your pillow as you search for the right words. "Yeah. I probably should be."

Joseph stands up and turns on the lamp that sits between you two, and you wince when the light hits your eyes. "But seriously, what have you been doing?" he asks again as he sits back down. "I've been trying to get some sleep and all I can hear is you muttering nonstop over there."

You can feel yourself start to blush, and you fix your eyes on the fascinating corner of the door behind Joseph. "Ah... I was just reading out loud. It helps me take it in better, y'know?" It's not a very good lie, and though you're not looking at Joseph, you know he's not buying it. "Half of enjoying a good book is visualization, isn't it?" You're audibly anxious.

"Fine. But what exactly are you reading?" You start to sweat; he's ruthless in his interrogation.

"Uh, it's... I mean you're probably not interested in it." Joseph's patience suddenly runs thin, and he leaps up and snatches the book out of your hand. "What the hell?" you shout, forgetting about the thin hotel walls and attempting rather aggressively to grab the book back.

Joseph, thanks to his powerful Joestar genes, is easily able to hold you off. "Hmm, what is... English-to-French dictionary...?" He looks up at you, confused, and you freeze. He rolls his eyes. "(Y/N), I'm failing to see what's so embarrassing about this. You want to learn a new language? More power to you - " Mid-sentence, he seems to come to a revelation, and you wince. You had almost made it out alive.

"...You're learning this for Polnareff, aren't you?"

"Isn't that the million dollar question?" you mumble, gluing your eyes to the floor. "Yes."

You can hear him horribly containing his laughter. "You've - you've got dedication, I'll give you that!" Little giggles are starting to escape him, and as he suddenly begins to howl with laughter, you try again to grab the paperback out of his hands.

Without breaking a sweat, he shoves you back onto your bed and starts leafing through the book. "Oh my God," Joseph wheezes, wiping a tear away with one hand and holding the book close to his face with the other. "I mean I knew you had feelings for the guy, but I had no idea you loved him like this!" The word 'love' hits you viscerally and you cover your face with your hands, trying to push down your unbearable embarrassment. "Oh God, that's so cute."

"Shut up!" you hiss, finally managing to wrestle the book back from Joseph. "I don't have to explain myself to you," you spit with as much rudeness as you can muster.

"You don't have to explain a thing, my friend," Joseph replies without missing a beat. "I can read you like a book right now."

"Oh my God," you groan, turning away and looking down at the bed. Your face is on fire, and you gingerly set the book down next to your pillow and you fold your arms on your lap. "Just... Fine. You got me, okay?"

"I guess I did get you! I really didn't mean to." Joseph's laughter seems to have finally ended, and he watches as you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. "Sorry for laughing, (Y/N). I'm not trying to make fun of you, I promise - it's just so ridiculous that you're going to all these lengths to win Polnareff over when I'm sure it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Shouldn't be that... What do you mean?" You momentarily put aside your anger when you hear Joseph's words.

"Isn't it obvious? You two are perfect for each other. I'm positive that Polnareff shares your feelings."

"That's funny," you respond, huffing out a little laugh. "He's always flirting with girls, isn't he? I know you've seen him do it."

Joseph rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. That's just the way he is. He can be a bit...familiar with the young women he meets, but I'm fully convinced that you're the person he has his eyes on." Before you can interject with another rebuttal, Joseph speaks again. "Don't argue with me on this. I've been alive far longer than you and I've seen lots of people fall in love in this lovely world!"

You don't want to admit it, but Joseph's actually giving you some confidence here. "You, well... You might be right." Joseph grins. "I'm still gonna try to figure out some of this stupid language, though. I think he'll be happy to hear it - I mean, he's been away from home for a long time." You swing your legs up onto the bed and cross them, grabbing the book and flipping it open as you do.

Joseph marvels at the sheer concentration in your eyes as you force your way through the paperback dictionary. He can't believe how in love you are; it's honestly making him a little teary-eyed. "Well, goodnight," he says as he climbs back under the covers. "Want me to leave the light on?"

"If that's okay, yeah." Joseph nods and lays his head down on his pillow. As he shuts his eyes and drifts off to sleep, he listens to you faintly mutter to yourself, "Je t'aime. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

The next day comes quickly, and unfortunately you haven't really slept enough to prepare for it. You'd stayed up all night after your little encounter with Joseph, so you're left with about an hour and a half of sleep to get through the day. You and Joseph quickly get ready, and you go to meet the rest of the group in the lobby.

You yawn loudly as you step out of the elevator, and Joseph takes a second to laugh at you before following. You elbow him in the arm as you walk up to Jotaro, Avdol, Iggy, and Polnareff. Kakyoin's still resting up in the hospital; you all miss him dearly.

"Good morning!" Avdol calls, watching as you shuffle into the little group. "Did you two sleep well?"

You simply shake your head, and Joseph laughs a little at your severe expression. "(Y/N) stayed up all night reading," he explains, but after you shoot a look his way he shuts his mouth.

"Oh, really?" Polnareff asks brightly, raising his eyebrows. You look up at him and feel your heart start pounding; if he asks what you were reading you think you might drop dead on the spot. "Didn't take you for the reading type."

You nearly laugh at that, looking incredulously up at Polnareff. "What the hell does that mean - are you calling me dumb?"

"No!" he says hastily, eyes wide. "I mean - maybe." You both start laughing now, and Joseph leaves to return the hotel keys and check out. "In all seriousness," Polnareff starts with a little smile on his face, "I just didn't think you could sit still long enough to enjoy a novel. You seem like a more active person, I guess."

You honestly can't - your little French study sessions have been nothing short of torture. Still, you just shrug. "Everyone enjoys a good story, don't they?"

"Yeah." Polnareff turns to Jotaro and Avdol, who have been chatting to each other. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asks, leaning against the wall behind him.

"Well..." Avdol thinks to himself for a moment. "We're a few hours away from Cairo. I think we should stay here for a while longer and then start heading there at around midday - so we can arrive under the cover of night."

"You're a good strategist, Avdol," you comment. "I would've just had us all drive into the city and parade around to find a hotel."

Avdol huffs out a laugh. "As much as I'd like to do that, our lives are in danger. We'll have to be really careful once we get to Cairo. I'm sure Dio has eyes everywhere."

"Yeah." You turn to Jotaro, who's been silent so far. Iggy's on the ground next to him, looking as pissed off as a dog possibly can. "How did you sleep last night?"

He just shrugs. "Same old. It was nice having the room to myself, save for this little asshole." He jabs his thumb in Iggy's direction, and you snort. "But yeah, it was fine. I just wanna get this over with. I've been..." He glances down at his shoes. "I've been thinking about my mom."

You'd almost forgotten about the original reason Joseph and his grandson set out on this mission. You had heard from the Foundation a few days ago that Holly Kujo's condition was only worsening. "You're gonna see her soon, huh? When we get to Cairo we'll practically be in Dio's backyard."

Jotaro nods. "Yep. Can't wait to beat the shit out of him."

You grin and nod vigorously. "I'm with you there."

Joseph returns to your little group, and the five of you all huddle together. "So," he starts, taking a deep breath. "Are you thinking we should wait, Avdol?"

"Yes. I was just saying that we should give it a few hours before we get on the road."

Joseph seems satisfied with that answer. "Perfect. So until then... I guess we can do a bit of sightseeing! We should pair up and try to stay at least a little close by. I'll stick with Avdol, and Jotaro - would you mind going with Iggy? If anything happens, both of your stands would be more than capable of taking care of things." Jotaro rolls his eyes and hums in agreement. "Okay. That leaves you two."

The sheer glee in Joseph's shit-eating grin as he looks at you and Polnareff honestly astounds you. Polnareff doesn't seem to notice, and he looks down at you. "Well this'll be fun! I haven't gotten to spend much time with you in the past couple days, (Y/N)." There's a pure affection in Polnareff's voice as he speaks to you, and you feel yourself fall even deeper in love. "We'll see you guys here in three hours, alright?" Joseph nods, waving goodbye with a sickly sweet smile, and Polnareff takes your hand and drags you through the revolving door.

The sun feels great on your skin. You follow Polnareff out, looking at your hand clasped in his as he leads you down the street a ways. He makes you feel so, so happy, and you're overcome by the desire to tell him that. "Where are you going?" you call, laughing a little when you realize you've been following him without having a clue where he's taking you.

He halts suddenly, and you run right into his back. "Oh, shit! Sorry." He spins around and rights you, peering down at your face. "That didn't hurt, did it?"

"N-no." You wince and feel your nose, which had rammed right into one of his shoulder blades. "I'm all good." After a thumbs-up for confirmation, Polnareff is satisfied. "So we're here?"

"Yep!" Polnareff gestures to the shop you're standing in front of. It's a café by the looks of it, and it seems pretty nice. "We passed it while we were driving in yesterday."

"Oh, cool!" Polnareff heads inside and you follow him. At the counter, Polnareff orders a couple pastries and two espressos for both of you. Once he gets his order, he hands you your espresso and walks out the door. He's really intent on getting the most out of these few hours of respite, it seems.

"Now that we have some food," he says, gesturing to the little bag of desserts, "we can have a picnic!" He starts walking briskly down the street, and you nearly have to jog to keep up with him.

"Did you spot this on the way in too?" you ask. He nods. "Damn, I missed so much. I was sleeping." He laughs, and you join in. After a few more minutes, you reach your destination.

It's a little park that overlooks a small, tranquil pond. "Oh, this is neat!" you say. "It's really pretty."

"Yeah." You look up at Polnareff as he gazes out at the scenery. You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time; he's usually being pestered by Iggy or attacked by some enemy stand user. You're really grateful that you get to share a calm, sweet moment with him before you have to head out to battle in Cairo.

You decide to take a seat on the grass a few feet away from the pond. Polnareff sits down beside you and carefully sets his espresso down on the grass, making sure it doesn't spill, and you do the same. You cross your legs as Polnareff reaches into the bag and pulls out a pastry.

"For you," he says, bowing his head as he hands you a croissant.

You laugh as you take it from him. "I'm honored," you reply, dipping your head in mock gratitude to Polnareff. He smirks a little and takes out a croissant for himself, leaning back and taking a big bite. You try yours, and it tastes amazing. "You're got a good eye," you tell Polnareff, your voice a little muffled as you eat. "This is really good."

"Well it's only natural that I would have an eye for cuisine," he replies with a smug grin. You reach over and slug him in the arm, and he lets out a startled laugh when you hit him. "Hey! It's true." You sigh and turn towards the pond, watching the little ripples in the water as the breeze gently brushes over it. Polnareff's still laughing a little beside you, and the whole scene suddenly feels completely and utterly romantic. You realize with a start that this is the perfect moment to try out your newly acquired language skills!

You pick up your espresso and take a sip; it's just as good as the food had been. Tentatively, you look over at Polnareff and find him staring out at the pond. "C'est un bon café," you say as nonchalantly as you can.

Polnareff nods and smiles faintly. "Oui, je suis d'accord," he replies, but the second the words leave his mouth he whips his head around, staring at you with wide eyes. "What did - did you just - was that French?" he sputters, starting to grin like an idiot.

You return the smile, nodding. "Oui. I'm glad you could understand me."

"Glad I could - God, (Y/N), you're so - " Polnareff suddenly reaches out and wraps you in a huge hug, knocking the wind from you as he practically pulls you into his lap.

"H-hey!" you yelp, laughing loudly as he rests his chin on your shoulder. He sighs, placing his hand at the base of your neck, and you feel a shiver run through you. After a moment, he pulls away and beams at you.

"I didn't know you knew French!" he says brightly; he looks ecstatic. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know it until a few days ago," you tell him with a little smile. "I've been picking it up little by little. I still barely know anything."

"You've been...learning it?" he asks softly, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah! I found a little dictionary at a shop about a week ago, and that's actually what I stayed up all last night reading. Can't say that I'm grasping it very well, but I'm giving it a shot just for you!" The smile drops from your face a bit when you notice that Polnareff's expression has grown somber.

"(Y/N)..." Your eyes widen when you notice tears welling up in Polnareff's eyes. "You've been such a good friend to me. You're always there to make me smile, and well, you've saved my life a few times too. But this, I - you don't know what it means to me."

You reach out and take his hands in yours, a little clumsily. "You're the one who makes me smile. You're my best friend." You're suddenly made acutely aware of the butterflies in your stomach, and you suck in a deep breath. It feels like it's now or never. "Polnareff, there's something I want to tell you." He blinks the tears from his eyes, and you hold his hands a little tighter. "I really - "

Before you can finish, you're punched in the jaw by an impossibly powerful fist. You fly back, landing hard in the grass a few feet away. As you stumble to your feet, swearing and clutching your face, you summon your stand. It fucking figures there's a stand user here. Sometimes you wonder if you're some sort of stand magnet.

Polnareff frantically pulls himself up and dashes over to you. "(Y/N)!" he shouts, holding you by the shoulders and looking at your jaw. "Shit, are you alright?!"

You wince when Polnareff ghosts his fingers over the spot. "Probably not," you mutter, breathing in sharply through your nose. Polnareff freezes, and you shrug his other hand off of you. "We've gotta beat this guy, okay?"

"Y-yeah." Polnareff summons Silver Chariot and stands against your back, scanning the area for the stand or its user. You do the same, trying to push the pain out of your mind. "There!" Polnareff suddenly shouts, and you twist your head around.

It's a man; he's standing on the other side of the pond. He stalks up to the two of you, and as he walks, his stand slowly materializes behind him. It's extremely threatening, with a build that could rival Star Platinum and deep-set, bright red eyes. You force yourself to approach him and Polnareff follows you. Your stand is an archer, suited for long-range battle, and Polnareff's works better at a closer range, so you're usually able to cover each other's blind spots. Your stand pulls out an arrow and nocks it, aiming for the head of your enemy. "(Y/N), right?" he calls, a lax smirk on his face. "And Jean Pierre Polnareff." He and his stand take another step forward, and you tense. Polnareff's Silver Chariot is ready to strike at any moment. "Easy, easy!" he says, raising his hands on either side of his head. "I'm a fair man. Allow me to explain my stand to you."

You glance at Polnareff, and after a moment of hesitation he nods his head. Your stand lowers its bow while Silver Chariot points its rapier to the ground. The man slowly and surely approaches the two of you, and his stand waits beside him. "Thank you. Truce for now?" You grit your teeth and will yourself to nod. "I'm glad. Well, my stand is the Seven of Swords. Essentially, it's extremely powerful. I doubt you'll be able to get a single hit in, if I'm being honest." You can feel rage bubbling up inside you, and as hard as you try to fight it, you just can't kick the feeling. Your gaze flits to Polnareff; he looks just as angry as you.

Grimacing, you look back to the user. "My stand specializes in strength. Every punch it deals leaves a lasting effect - as I'm sure you've noticed, (Y/N)."

You want to scream. The smug look he's wearing and the searing pain in your face is all too much, and before he can continue, you have your stand quickly nock an arrow and fire. You hit him in his right shoulder - he had punched you with that arm - and he falls back, grasping at the wound. "Shit!" he shouts, leaning against his giant stand. With its left arm, Seven of Swords reaches out and yanks the arrow from its user's body.

You start to grin; it looks like you've knocked this guy down a notch. However, just when Polnareff moves to strike and you ready another arrow, he and his stand vanish. "What the hell?" Polnareff mutters, scanning the area. "Where could they have - "

"(Y/N), I'm disappointed!" You scream when the stand wraps its left arm around your neck, squeezing painfully but just lightly enough to let you remain conscious. The man leans in far too close and speaks. "You broke our truce. I suppose I can't be too angry... I wasn't exactly being completely truthful either." The stand's grip on you tightens, and you choke out a cough. Polnareff goes to slice through the arm around your neck, but before you even know what's happened, you're on the other side of the pond. Polnareff, now a great distance away, gapes at you before running over as quickly as he can.

"My Seven of Swords is a master of teleportation," the man announces. "Everything else is just a plus." His stand abruptly releases you, and as you gasp for air, the man grins. "I'm surprised by how easy it was to take care of you, (Y/N). Lord Dio had made you sound a lot tougher." You try to swear at him, but your voice is hoarse and barely understandable.

"(Y/N)!" You turn your head when Polnareff cries your name, and suddenly you're punched hard in the abdomen. You're knocked to the ground and your head smacks into the dirt, and the last thing you see before you lose consciousness is Polnareff's face, equal parts anguished and enraged.

-----

The first thing you note when you fade back into consciousness is a strong pain in your midsection. You groan, forcing your eyes open; looks like you were rescued. You're in your hotel room, and it seems like you're alone. You glance over at the window, gritting your teeth as you shift your aching neck, and you nearly laugh out loud when you see that stupid little dictionary sitting on your bed.

You hear the door open, and you turn to find Polnareff stepping through the doorway. "Hey," you say, your voice quieter than you'd intended.

He looks down at the sound of your voice and grins. "Glad to have you back," he replies softly. "I'm so relieved that you're alright." He carefully sits down beside you on the bed.

"Of course I'm alright." You crack a smile. "I wasn't gonna let that asshole kill me."

Polnareff laughs a little and nods. "Yeah, he was a real piece of shit. After he - after he knocked you out, I held him off for a little while until reinforcements arrived in the forms of Star Platinum and The Fool. The three of us had him crying like a baby."

"Thank God," you sigh. "He deserved it." You both fall into a little silence, neither of you quite sure of what to say. You remember exactly what you had been about to tell Polnareff when you were attacked, but you can't muster up the courage to try again now. "Even if it got fucked up at the end, thank you for the lovely afternoon," you finally say. "I really enjoyed our little picnic."

"So did I." Polnareff starts to speak more, but something catches his eye. You watch as he reaches over you and grabs something; it's the French dictionary. He peers down at it and starts flipping through the pages. Almost instantly he looks completely affronted, and you feel a laugh rise in your chest.

"What is it?" you ask him as he scoffs, shutting the book definitively and setting it back down.

"They made that thing so difficult to understand! It's so much simpler than that makes it out to be, really!" He shakes his head, clearly disappointed with the publication, and you let a little laughter escape. "How about this." He leans in towards you. "Instead of learning out of that stupid book, I can teach you! It'll be a lot more fun."

He's just so...charming. He's always so sincere, especially with you, and the pure kindness in his eyes as he speaks nearly takes your breath away. "That - that would be fun," you reply, too taken with him to think of anything else to say.

He grins. "Good. We can have your first lesson right now."

You laugh at that, making Polnareff jump a bit. "Already? What, am I gonna get homework too?"

He joins in on your laughter and shakes his head. "No, no, it'll be quick." Something in his expression softens, and you blink as he reaches out and places his hand gently over yours. He suddenly looks a lot more serious. "Tell me what I'm saying. Je suis amoureux de toi."

You open your mouth, softly whispering the words. Your mind's nearly a total blank; it seems you really didn't learn much from that dictionary. You're at least determined to get the beginning. "Ah... Je is 'I', so je suis would be 'I am',  right?"

Polnareff nods. He wraps his hand around yours and holds it, just as he had earlier today. "Yes. Je is 'I', suis is 'am'..." He lifts his other hand and entwines it with yours. You're not sure what he's saying but you allow yourself to hope, just a little.

Polnareff's voice is hardly above a whisper as he says, "Je suis amoureux de toi - I'm in love with you."

A huge smile breaks across your face and you feel like you're floating. When Polnareff sees your reaction, his smile widens as well, and he leans down and wraps you up in a careful hug. "I love you too," you murmur in his ear; you think you might burst into tears if you try to speak any louder. "I have for a while now. I'm so happy you - " Despite your best efforts, you feel yourself start to cry. Polnareff leans back a bit, and you're almost amused to see that he's crying too. You probably look like a couple of lovesick fools, and you're so, so, happy.

"I'll never be able to show you how much you mean to me, (Y/N)," Polnareff murmurs before pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "How much it means to me that you care."

"Of course I care," you whisper back, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair. "I care because you mean the world to me."

Polnareff looks down into your eyes, and you both take in each other's expressions. "You know, I think we're perfect for each other," he breathes, and as you start to agree, he moves forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

Nothing has ever felt more right than Polnareff's lips on yours. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him as close as you possibly can. He parts from you for just a moment to help you sit up a bit, so that he doesn't cause the injury to your midsection any pain. You wince when a particularly sharp pang of pain hits you, and Polnareff softly runs his hand over your hair. After a moment, the feeling dissipates, and you kiss him again.

"Je t'aime," you breathe against his lips, and he smiles. You gently kiss the corner of his mouth and then rest your head on his shoulder. As he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, you whisper, "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime..."

-----

It's pitch black out as Joseph drives the group's large car down the winding roads to Cairo, with only the faint radio and Avdol's occasional snores to keep him company. He isn't exactly happy about driving in these conditions, but you had needed a few extra hours of bedrest before you could start this little road trip. Every once in a while, he glances at the back seat, and he finds you, Jotaro, and Polnareff all fast asleep.

After a couple hours of driving, Joseph hears someone stir behind him. He glances up at the rearview mirror and watches as Polnareff rubs his eyes and groggily looks to his left. You're sleeping against him, with your head on his shoulder and one arm loosely wrapped around his midsection. Polnareff's mouth turns up in a little smile, and he carefully wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"So I see everything worked out for (Y/N)," Joseph comments. Polnareff looks up at him, surprised and a little embarrassed to find he was being watched, and Joseph just laughs shortly. "I've always known you two were going to end up together. You really are a perfect fit."

Polnareff's face goes red and he looks back at you. "...Yeah. I'm really lucky."

"Oh, I know!" Joseph laughs again, startling Polnareff. "You should've seen (Y/N) last night, pouring over the French language like their life depended on it. They wanted so badly to make you happy after this hell we've been through."

Polnareff almost feels like crying again. He can't believe how truly lucky he is to have found you. "Still," Joseph says, "it's not quite over yet." Polnareff watches Joseph's expression turn somber through the rear-view mirror. "We've still got to kill Dio."

"Yeah." As he gazes down at you, so peaceful in sleep, he feels a fire light in his mind. He'd do anything to keep you alive, and while killing Dio will surely be extremely difficult, he knows he's going to do it - for Joseph, for Jotaro, for Holly Kujo, and for you. "We'll do it. We'll kill him and we'll all be fine."

"You're quite the optimist," Joseph mutters, sighing. "I try to be as well, but I'm worried that our luck so far will finally catch up to us in this final battle."

Polnareff isn't quite sure what to say, but now there's no doubt in his mind that they'll succeed in the fight against Dio. He just sighs, careful not to disturb you, and rests his head against the car window. "Do you want me to stay awake with you?" he asks Joseph.

"No, I'm fine. We'll be there pretty soon." Polnareff nods and shuts his eyes, and Joseph quickly turns his eyes back to the road.

As Polnareff begins to doze off, he gently clasps your hand in his. He hasn't had a home for a long time; ever since he lost his sister, he hasn't known that feeling of having somewhere - or someone - you truly belong with. Now, next to you, he dares to hope he's feeling it again. He's always loved you, he's realizing - you've always made him feel this way, whenever you joked around together or fought side-by-side in battle. Knowing that you feel the same was the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Just before he falls asleep, he whispers a gentle, "I love you." He holds your hand a little tighter and finally drifts off.

Joseph casts one final glance at the two of you in the back seat. Unlike Polnareff, he's a little more worried about the potential outcome of the face-off with Dio. Maybe, though, just maybe - the endless love you two possess for one another will be what wins the fight.

[panelshowsource]

i actually wasn’t too nervous! i knew paul, iain, and joe would all be sweet and i was excited for sian because no middle-aged funny lady has ever not been a legend. even though i don’t think it was a god tier season i thought they were all endearing in their own ways (even iain lmao) and i think we appreciate that kind of pleasantness. i had thought it was going to be a touch more competitive — which is my taste, which is why i liked s2 so much, for example — because iain and even lou were bringing it hard in the beginning, but they seemed to succumb to the wrath of the taskmaster pretty quickly and begin just going along with what he decided without much fuss or drama. that said, i also think the taskmaster was a little lax; you may have noticed plenty of rounds he didn’t give out 1 or even 2 points, like prize tasks were 3-3-3-4-5 points opposed to someone having to come last even if they did a decent job (which can cause some fun drama). i thought the editing of the tasks was really back up to par this series and i loved the return of sassy talkative alex like we had in s1 and 2. i really think it was a lot of fun!

ahhhh hard to say! maybe......sian 💕 hbu??

i’m not proud of him and frankly i hope he’s not proud of himself

even though requests aren’t open this was cute so i got u hehe

joe is very special and perfect and good and i am highly concerned about him

you and a thousand other anons, trust me ;’) luckily if u catch him with a rosé in his hand i think you’re in with a chance

hell yes she is! taskmaster said smith family rights!

it’s what we DESERVE!!!!!

seal*! ofc mitchell brook primary school are a league of legends baybay!! and ya i tried to do a lot of miles content this week bc it’s what the people want heh

i would really enjoy seeing glenn moore and larry dean more, who i think were some of the best newcomers to have come on the show in a long time. as for guests from very previous series? ooo well i def miss gina and do think david should be on every show forever until the end of time, obviously, but hmm it’d be great to see holly walsh, sarah millican, and jo brand again!! they’re all ace with those big group dynamics which is super important on that series in particular. i also miss frankie with my every fibre

lmaooo i call him a poor man’s ed gamble and that’s a compliment tbh

it may have very well been an act back in 2017, or maybe you were just really receptive to even him at his most honestly aggressive, hard to say. i was much more forgiving of that aggression the second time i saw him live but by the third and fourth times i was very much on the same page as those in the thread and thought it was borderline unprofessional and barely funny. honestly to each his own though, bc if it can pass as comedy then it is comedy, truly. the worst of it i saw was when a woman got up to use the restroom during the set and he ended up berating her for ten mins over it, and after the show she was outside telling people she was so sorry she upset him but she couldn’t wait any longer to change her tampon...seriously brutal. i really don’t have any reason to believe it’s an act. he’s mentioned many, many times on his podcasts that he is very sensitive, is sidetracked easily, is very self-critical, he doesn’t enjoy interacting with fans (specifically during and after standup), and it’s not uncommon for him to lose his groove half-way through his shows if something throws him off; he is also self-admittedly seriously mentally ill. the protection of being in character seems to have come in handy for him in a serious way for a long time, and i don’t think he’s come to understand how he’s meant to behave and interact when he’s being Real James like he is in cold lasagne. i don’t claim to know him, but considering the last time i saw him (spring) he did a whole bit about how suicidal he was just a couple months prior, it seems fair to say he’s still in throes of taking care of himself, so i’m sending him positive and healthy vibes and hoping he’s putting that before his career

note: i really don’t want to rehash this acaster convo again in the asks, so please message me off anon if you have any questions. stay positive and take care of your mental health, y’all!!

i haven’t!! i’ll let you know when i do though :’)

apart from the champion specials that are upcoming, we aren’t suuuure. probably september or october, though! i am rly excited for it to come back, it’s such a pleasant show and richard is such an underrated panelist in general imo

my thoughts exactly anon 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

anon stop are you trying to make me cry..........i genuinely find it so inspiring.........the first time i heard him say that the 2 years waiting for her were the hardest of his life, and if he had known he only had to wait 2 years for her they would have been the easiest..........broke a piece of my heart off that is still floating around my chest cavity trying to find a home..........

TBH I ASKED AND I HAVE RECEIVED

which links anon? i clicked through a bunch and everything is in working order. are you sure you’re looking at the original post, which gets updated?

f.a.q. // tags // watch links masterpost

[gossamie]

real bitches get revenge.

summary — one frat party. one cheating and (soon-to-be) ex-boyfriend. one plan to get revenge.

pairing — jeon jungkook x park jimin x reader (ft. bts)

genre — fluff & humor

word count — 2,514

warnings — swearing, mentions of alcohol, and poorly made dick jokes

notes — this story has been sitting in my drafts for some time now, but i’m so glad i finally finished it! this is a lil different from what i normally write, but i wanted to push myself from my usual angsty fics and give you guys something more lighthearted. i hope you enjoy (bad humor and all)!

p.s. disclaimer: i am not implying through this story that jungkook is a cheating asshole, nor do i think that any of the other characters are exactly like the stereotype i portrayed them as. this is purely for fictional purposes. 

p.p.s. thank you thank you thank you @louvresdemiel, aka luna, for reading this story and giving me advice! love you <3

“Revenge is sweet and not fattening.” — Alfred Hitchcock

Jeon Jungkook— the president-slash-poster-child of Pi Rho Omega and the spitting image of charisma, charm, and confidence. He’s the guy that everyone wants to be friends with, the guy that makes any frat party legendary, the guy you hate to love, and the guy that you’re lucky to call your loving, loyal boyfriend.

Well, soon-to-be ex-boyfriend, because he’s currently kissing another girl.

You probably would’ve still seen Jungkook shoving his tongue down that girl’s throat even if Seokjin hadn’t pointed it out to you. It was as if they were asking for an audience; they were pressed up against the kitchen island, their grimy hands moving and grabbing each others’ bodies in every direction but especially towards the parts where the sun doesn’t shine, and you could’ve sworn you saw spit flying from her mouth and drool slobbering down Jungkook’s chin like a dog— or, more appropriately, like the bitch he is.

Sure, you were sad— after all, you had spent the entirety of your senior year falling in love with Jungkook— but, more than anything, you were… angry. You were angry because he had chosen to cheat on you. He had chosen to walk away from your relationship. He had chosen to throw away a year’s worth of endless laughter and stolen kisses and hushed secrets and infinite love all for some random sorority girl he met five seconds ago.

In that moment, as you watched your loving, loyal boyfriend kiss another girl, you knew that he didn’t deserve you, not now and not ever. In that moment, you knew that you deserved better than him. In that moment, you knew that you’ll always deserve better than some cheating, two-faced prick.

Whatever there was between you and Jungkook, it was over the minute he decided you apparently weren’t as important as a drunk make-out sesh.

But he’s made his choice. Now, you’ll make yours.

And your choice?

To get sweet, sweet revenge.

“Y/N, what the hell are you planning to do?”

“What do you mean?” you reply as you batted your eyelashes at Seokjin, feigning innocence, something sickly sweet coating your tone. Earlier, you had shrugged off his attempts to comfort you, not because you didn’t appreciate them, but because you didn’t need them; they were only a distraction, anyway. There was only one thing you concentrated on as you pulled Seokjin aside from the throng of partygoers: enlisting your friend’s help in your plan for revenge.

“I know that look in your eyes. Whenever you get that look, I know you’re about to do something, and it’s not something pretty.”

“Are you trying to stop me from getting back at Jungkook?”

“Oh, hell no. I’m about to shove my foot up his ass faster than his three-inch dick can inflate.”

“Great. You and I are on the same page. So, will you please help me?”

Seokjin sighs, weighing the options in his mind. Should he maintain a semi-clean moral record, or should he take the opportunity to shove Jeon Jungkook’s shit right in his pretty little face?

But Seokjin realizes there was only one correct option out of the two and that it was definitely not the first one, so he replies, “What do you need?”

You devilishly smirk and focus your attention back to the raging party, taking care not to shift your eyes too far to the right so as not to look at the kitchen and, subsequently, (gag) him. “You know more about the fraternities than I do. I need to know who the somewhat-decent bachelors are in this room and everything you know about them.”

“So, should I start off with me?”

“Oh my gosh, you actually said something funny for once in your life!”

“Okay, listen here, I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, bit—”

“Just kidding! Now, focus. There has to be someone in here, right?”

Seokjin nods, and you follow his gaze to a head of rose gold hair and a nose buried deep in a sketchbook leaning against a wall at the back of the room. The man looked familiar to you; you remembered seeing him wandering peacefully around campus, often carrying a vintage camera or watercolors in his hands. For some reason, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his profile, drawn in by the mysterious aura that lingered around his hunched figure and hung in his deep brown eyes.

“That,” Seokjin remarks, “is Kim Taehyung. Fine arts major. Gamma Mu Mu. I like to think of him as the school’s token art hoe.”

You scoff. “Why do you say that?”

“He fits the stereotype perfectly. He refuses to take pictures on anything other than his Polaroid, he stans Van Gogh, and he thinks he invented wearing wire-rimmed glasses. I’m pretty sure I heard him say once that Instagram was an ‘insult to modern photography’.”

“Okay, but have you seen him? He’s perfect.”

“Oh, I know. But I don’t think I would want to be seen with the guy who looks like the physical manifestation of a liberal arts college degree. Hard pass.”

You’re about to voice your disappointment when a loud burst of laughter from the other side of the room piques your interest. You find yourself staring at a small crowd of people clustered around the couch in the living room— wait— around the guy sitting on the couch in the living room. The people surrounding him are incredibly intrigued by him, judging by how close they lean in to hear him and how hard they laugh at all his jokes, and you wonder if it’s because of his wide smile or his kind eyes or his very presence or all of the above.

You deduce that it must be the last option because you’re intrigued, too.

“Who is that?” you ask, dumbfounded, wondering how the hell you’ve never seen him around the university before.

Seokjin echoes your confusion. “Jung Hoseok? He’s the nicest guy on campus! His frat calls him ‘The Sun of Omega Psi’, which is such a cute nickname. A little cheesy, but cute, nonetheless.” He shifts his attention towards said ray of light. “You can’t deny it, though, the nickname. It fits him perfectly.”

He’s right; you can’t. If Chode Jungcock is the life of the party, then Jung Hoseok is the light. Hoseok seems to radiate positivity and his effect can be seen on the smiles on people’s faces that inexplicably appear whenever he passes by. People like Hoseok aren’t supposed to exist, yet here he is: charming, friendly, witty, and to top it all off, painfully handsome.

You frown, however, and voice your thoughts aloud. “I can’t use Hoseok, though. He’s too pure for this world, and especially too pure for revenge.” You turn to Seokjin. “It’s back to the drawing board, I guess.”

Seokjin is in the midst of forming another sentence before something by the staircase makes his head cock to the side and his eyes squint. “Huh. I never thought I’d see the day when he’d be outside his dorm.”

It’s your turn to squint your eyes towards the something— someone— that has caught Seokjin’s attention. What you find is a man bundled in a black hoodie and huddled at the bottom of the staircase, idly petting Holly, the small brown poodle that Pi Rho Omega adopted as their live-in pet. Though his head is turned downwards, you can see the curve of an upturned nose and the soft pout of his lips through his bangs and you conclude that there is a handsome face hiding underneath that hood. “And he is…?”

“Min Yoongi. I think he’s a music production major, and I think he’s in Zeta Theta Psi, but I don’t know for sure. I’ve only ever heard bits and pieces of information about him because he interacts with people once a year, he’s that introverted. I honestly don’t even know why he’s at this party, let alone why he joined a fraternity in the first place.”

That explains why you didn’t recognize him, because you have truly never seen him on campus before. “So, what do you know about him?”

“I know that he’s the host of the university’s radio station and that he’s normally holed up in his dorm producing songs with lyrics pulled straight from aesthetic text posts on Tumblr.”

“I take that as a no.”

“Mhm. I definitely peg him as someone who sends passive-aggressive mixtapes to all the boys he’s ever touched before. Hell, he’d probably write a song about you and blast it to the whole school. It’s too risky.”

You can’t help but nod in agreement because he does seem like that type of guy. But you choke on the chuckle that’s about to leave your throat, however, when your eyes catch sight of a man standing in a nearby hallway. The pounding music drowns out the conversation he’s having with the two other people standing by, but from the way his eyebrows furrow over his glasses, you can tell that his focus lies on the conversation and nothing else. Everything about him— how he leans into others as he talks, how his attentive gaze never falters, how his lips curl up into a warm smile— screams the definition of intelligence, or, maybe, the definition of perfection.

Seokjin catches himself staring before you do. “That’s Kim Namjoon,” he sputters, pulling himself out of his own reverie. “President of Lambda Kappa Pi, computer science major, future valedictorian of our class. I had statistics with him freshman year and whenever I talked to him, I felt like my IQ went up by ten points.”

“So, from an IQ of 20 to 30?”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you, too.”

Seokjin closes his eyes and releases a sigh, needing a moment of inner peace before continuing. “I would tell you to go for it, but Namjoon’s been so focused on his studies that he thinks that getting involved with anyone would ruin his 4.5 GPA. Also, that being said, my ass will have his name written all over it by the end of the semester and I am not letting you ruin my chances of that happening.”

Well, this is just great.

“This isn’t going to work, Seokjin! I’m never going to find anyone,” you suddenly exclaim, feeling defeated as you plop down onto the nearest chair. You’re beginning to accept that this plan for revenge is only going to backfire on you, that Jungkook is finally and definitely going to win.

And then your eyes find their way back to Hoseok— not to look at him, but rather, at the man standing beside him. He’s currently laughing at one of Hoseok’s many jokes— it’s such a bright, beautiful laugh— and his endearing smile makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. Seokjin opens his mouth, about to say the stranger’s name, but he stops, because the look in your eyes tells him that you already know it.

Park Jimin— the vice president of Pi Rho Omega and Jeon Jungkook’s best friend. He’s the most sought-after guy on campus— that is, next to Jungkook, of course— because he is, quite literally, the perfect guy. Jimin is ambitious, intelligent, caring, and, though you never brought yourself to admit it, everything that your boyfriend isn’t.

Being Jungkook’s girlfriend brought about a mutual friendship with Jimin, but you would be lying to yourself if you said that you had never looked at him as anything more than a friend. You had noticed Jimin’s sidelong glances and stares that always lasted a few seconds too long and, sometimes, when Jungkook was distracted and Jimin shifted his attention elsewhere, you returned them. But you were a loyal girlfriend and you never acted upon your fleeting feelings even though you knew that Jimin was so much better than Jungkook because— because…

Because Jimin wasn’t Jungkook.

What you were about to do to Jimin was wrong and you knew it, but even as the logical part of your brain screamed at you to stop whatever you’re doing this is so wrong, the irrational part of your brain blinded you from any good sense of moral judgement, so hell-bent on getting back at Jungkook that nothing and no one else mattered. Your anger clouded your vision until all you could see was your feet and how they were getting closer and closer to Jimin as he walked towards the kitchen, until all you could think was how you were getting closer and closer to fulfilling your desire for revenge.

Your footsteps stopped right in front of Jimin, who was just about to get another beer from the cooler sitting on the kitchen floor. You were painfully aware of your surroundings and everything occurring within them: how your heartbeat was thundering in your ears, how Jimin was so wide-eyed and so blissfully unaware of the situation at hand, and, out of the corner of your eye, how Jungkook was staring at you and all that was about to happen.

You’d been planning for this moment all night, but now that it was here, you weren’t sure if you could follow through. You gulped, hesitated, felt something in your stomach lurch and oh God I’m going to be sick if I don’t grow a pair of balls right now.

In one moment, Jimin was saying, “Hey, Y/N— are you okay?”

In the next moment, you were kissing Jimin in front of your boyfriend.

Eight seconds— the kiss lasted only eight seconds and every second felt wrong wrong this is so wrong but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this is so, so right. You liked the way his lips felt on yours. You liked the way his fingers weaved their way into your hair, gently cupping the back of your head. You liked the way he sighed onto your lips, a small sigh that silently whispered how he had waited a year for this moment, how he had waited a year for you.

Eight seconds— it took you eight seconds to decide that you wanted to spend much more time with Jimin. The rest of your life, maybe.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that you couldn’t hear the music over the crowd’s whispers, it didn’t matter that Seokjin’s jaw was hitting the floor from across the room, and it definitely didn’t matter that Jungkook was angrily storming out of the frat house, shrugging off the girl he was kissing moments ago. All that mattered was you and Jimin and how you now felt breathless in his presence and how his eyes now lit up when he looked at you and were his eyes always this brilliant?

Jimin pulled away from the kiss all too soon. He was silent for a moment. You braced yourself for rejection, for the inevitable and irrevocable feeling of despair that would hit you when he walked away.

But all he said was, “Kiss me again.”

So you did, and sparks flew.

Park Jimin— he wasn’t Jeon Jungkook, no, but if every moment with him felt like this, then that was a very, very good thing.

[gabrielxreader]

Neko, Akuma, Tenshi

Request: Hi! Totally love your blog btw, but I was wondering if you could write about gabriel being turned into a kitten and the reader taking him in, but when they try to change him back he still has the cat ears and tail. Gonna go run away now *hides*

A/N: This is really more humor than romance. I hope that’s okay!

Author: Holly

Warnings: Outdated Gremlins jokes

Characters: Y/N, Gabriel, Sam, Dean, Castiel

Word Count: 2,258

Y/N = Your Name

            The knocking on your door continued. It was aggressive and hard, and you were really annoyed by the person’s attitude, but you suspected that if you just ignored them then they might find some battering ram to force your door open with, so you went to answer.

            You pulled the door open in your pajamas, barefoot, with your hair messy and loose and a little bit snarled from your nap. You had been having a rough day, so you’d gone to bed early and hadn’t planned on getting up again. Now that you saw who you’d let in, you wished you’d just stayed asleep. You liked the Winchesters – you swear, you really did – but they always brought trouble.

            Dean, Sam, and Castiel were all on your doorstep. Sam was in a plaid shirt with a long rip up the sleeve and dirt on the collar. Part of Dean’s shirt was bulging from what you suspected were wrapped bandages, and he had bloodstains from a head wound by his left eye and a nasty bruise on his jaw. Cas’ tie was more crooked than usual, there was a dark pink splatter stain on his trench coat, and his smoldering eyes seemed more intense than you remembered.

            And Sam was carrying a kitten, wrapped up in another of his shirts.

            You took a deep breath before greeting them. You needed to say something polite, but straightforward; I don’t have the patience or energy for your bad luck should do the trick.

            Before you got the chance, Dean cut through the awkward silence in which you’d all been standing and staring at each other. “Hey, Y/N. You look like hell. And… we’d know.” He gestured between himself and Sam.

            You scowled and started to close the door.

            Dean jumped and shoved his foot out, catching it before it could close and shoving it open again. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he put his arms out. “Easy there. Look, we just want – need – a favor.”

            There was a reason you weren’t thrilled to see them. Every time they saw you, they wanted something from you. There had been a couple of occasions where it was something simple, like laundry or research, but most of the time, it was dangerous, exasperating, time-consuming, and ultimately something you didn’t want to deal with. You’d never really been in the life, per se, but your best friend had discovered hunting and you’d been riding it out ever since.

            “That’s what I’m afraid of!” You groaned at him crossly. “Last time I did a favor for you, I was hexed! – I couldn’t walk more than a few steps at a time for days, Dean! Days!”

            “Look,” Sam put in, looking desperate. He used his puppy-dog eyes. “Okay, you’re right, usually we ask a lot. But this time we’ve already taken care of the bad guy, right? We just need someone to watch over this thing while we figure out… damage control.”

            You should’ve been suspicious when he hesitated, but he had offered you the little fluffy thing, and you made grabby hands towards the kitten. It was half-asleep and tired. Its fur was a beautiful, clean golden with tawny paws and a bit of the same shading around its little nose.

            “This is all you want?” You checked contemplatively, narrowing your eyes. Dean gave you a grin. Sam nodded. Unconvinced, you turned your glare towards Castiel, who ducked his head.

            “You have our word,” the angel rumbled, nodding. “All we ask of you is that you be the caretaker for that cat for the next… three days?” He turned his blue eyes to Dean in question.

            Three days was a longer time than you’d have liked, but compared to anything else they could’ve asked you for, this was tame. You didn’t have anything better to do, really, so you guessed that it wasn’t going to hurt you too much. Besides, the kitty was cute.

            “Okay,” you acquiesced suspiciously, cradling it close to your chest with both hands. Sam started to smile in relief, and you seized an opportunity. “But Sam, I’m keeping this shirt.” You patted the side of the bundle the kitten was in. You liked his flannels; once you washed the fur off, it would be warm and soft.

            He laughed. “It’s all yours.”

            “Great,” Dean beamed, stepping forwards and clapping his hand forcefully on your shoulder. “Knew we could count on you.”

            The kitten was not a kitten. Seven hours after Team Free Will had departed, you knew that the real reason they’d left it with you was because it was actually a demon.

            It was cute while it was sleeping, but after it woke up, it was a nightmare. It yowled at you until you let it lead you into the kitchen (smart kitten) but then freaked out and refused to eat the rice and yogurt you gave it. You didn’t exactly have cat food on you – you didn’t own a cat! It wouldn’t stay off of your furniture, and when you tried laying out a blanket for it, it pushed its slim body under the blanket instead of staying on top of it, getting fur on both the blanket and the sofa. It was happy enough to let you pet it, but it made cute yet irritating hissy noises whenever you stopped or tried to pick it up.

            “You liars,” you snarled into the phone, the back of your hand still stinging from a swipe of tiny, razor-sharp claws. “You dirty brats. No wonder you wanted rid of it. It’s a monster.”

            “You’re telling me,” Dean grumbled on the other end. The background noise was quiet. Then, louder, he addressed you again. “Look, give him some chocolate. If you wanna play hardball, just stick him in a closet and close the door.”

            “Dean!” You exclaimed, scandalized. “I’m not going to abuse a cat, or give it food to make it sick!”

            Fluff rubbing on your ankle had you looking down. Your houseguest was rubbing itself along your feet, having snuck out to join you in the entrance hall silently. Its eyes were closed and you could feel the vibration in its body as it purred. You smiled slightly, but you weren’t going to let it – him? – lull you into complacency for his next stunt.

            “Alright, listen, I know it’s weird, but Cas thinks he’s got something. We’ll probably pick him up tomorrow, do a little hocus-pocus, and presto bam-o, we’re all out of your hair, demon-cat included.”

            “Presto bam-o?” You repeated skeptically. “How come you need magic? You know that’s playing with fire. And what’s that have to do with the cat?”

            “Look, it’s complicated.” Dean was starting to backtrack. In ten seconds, you predicted he’d hang up so you couldn’t ask more questions. You started counting backwards in your head. “Just, you know, don’t feed it after midnight, don’t let it kill itself – or you.”

            “Uh-huh,” you dryly agreed. Three, two- “Dean?”

            The phone clicked.

            It used to be that you were angry when that happened, but you were so used to the boys by now that their quirks were just things you predicted and went along with. You reserved your temper for when they really deserved it. Putting your phone back in your pocket, you looked down at the kitten, which had sat back on its haunches, tail flopped out on the floor behind it, and was peering up at you with an ear crooked.

            “He hung up on me,” you told the cat with a frown, planning to commiserate. “When Dean comes back, do me a favor and scratch him, too.”

            The cat meowed a little too enthusiastically and if you’d been a little more tired, you might’ve even said it nodded.

            At least Dean wasn’t wrong when he made his latest promises. Sam and Cas came back to your house the next time lunch rolled around, Sam carrying a conspicuous brown canvas bag and Castiel already with his silver blade out of his sleeve.

            You looked from Sam to Cas, briefly envied Dean his escape, and then said sarcastically, “When do we begin the cult sacrifice?”

            Sam was puzzled until he looked at Cas. Then he did a double-take and punched the angel in the arm halfheartedly. “Dude, put that away!” He scolded, giving you a hesitant, apologetic wince. “I’m sorry. We talked about this.”

            Cas glowered at the back of Sam’s head. “I’d like to rescue my brother from this undignified spell as soon as possible.”

            While moving aside to let them in, you started to ask the multitude of questions you had. “What’s this about?” You pressed, closing the door behind them. “Why’s the cat important? Why does Dean say you guys are going to use a spell? What does another angel have to do with this?”

            Sam clasped his hands before him as he stalled to figure out what to say. “Well…” He stopped, glanced at Cas, and then turned back to you. “See, the thing is… Okay, you wouldn’t believe what happened.”

            “We found a witch in a neighboring state. Gabriel was supplying us with an ingredient to reverse a spell cast on the town when he was subjected to the effects of a hex bag intended for me.” Castiel explained it all shortly and without blinking. Sam grimaced but stepped back and let Cas take the reins. “Sam and Dean decided you were most qualified to be tasked with ensuring my brother’s continued safety.”

            Spell – witch – angel – no.

            “No,” you whispered, horrified. “Please tell me the demon-cat isn’t Gabriel.”

            Cas cocked his head. “I will admit, a large part of the decision to leave him with you was due to the understanding that you were in favor of Gabriel.”

            “Well yeah, sure,” you agreed, looking over your shoulder towards the living room, where you’d last seen the cat/archangel. Stricken, you turned your eyes back to Sam. “I thought he was just a cat,” you whimpered. “I let him sleep in my bed.”

            “Mrrow!” The pitched yelp was followed by a small crash in the next room.

            Property damage, mild injuries, and severe embarrassment were more than enough for you. You covered your face with your hands, groaning miserably. “Go fix it,” you begged. “Please, go fix it and don’t make me babysit for you ever again.”

            “I’m sorry,” Sam apologized. Cas had already taken off to go locate the four-legged Gabriel. “Dean thought you’d refuse if you knew, and I kind of assumed he was right, so we just told you he’s a cat. And he is a cat, but that’s…” He stopped and took a deep breath when he realized he was rambling. “That’s… now I see how we may have been very misleading.”

            You fixed and ate a bowl of ramen in your kitchen while the hunter and angel duo handled the Gabriel situation. The more you thought of it, the more you realized you should’ve guessed. The fur was totally Gabe, and if not the physical appearance, then it should’ve been how smart he was. For a kitten that barely looked a month old, he knew way too much about human appliances and behavior to interact with you the way he had been.

            You had held him on your lap and petted him. You’d scratched his belly and tried to pick him up. You’d scolded him for being on the furniture. You were never going to live this down.

            As you rinsed your dishes, you saw a huge flash come from your living room. It was like a flash-bang grenade, but it was flooded with energy. When the light hit you, you gasped and leaned over the counter, assaulted by the power within it. As Gabriel was angel-ed up again, you breathed deeply to curb your embarrassment before you had to go face them.

            It’s okay, you promised yourself. You thought he was a cat. It doesn’t have to be awkward.

            Bravely, you took a few steps onwards, entering the room with the other three, and stopped short in your tracks.

            This is definitely going to be awkward.

            Gabriel sat on the floor, leaning against the front of your sofa, in a rumpled olive-colored jacket and jeans. Strands of hair were in front of his face and he was covering his nose with the crook of his elbow. From where you were, you could now smell the herbs from the spell Cas had used, and they were very unpleasantly pungent. Most importantly, you could still see the golden triangles poking up from his head, and the same-colored tail, now in proportion to his human vessel, between his legs.

            You cursed loudly.

            Sam held a hand out, faltered, and stepped back. “I honestly don’t know what to say about this.” He turned to Cas.

            The angel stared at the spell bowl. “I don’t understand,” he muttered. “This is a restoration spell. It should have worked entirely.”

            “You missed a few spots,” Gabriel snorted, tentatively uncovering his nose and reaching for his ears. His face brightened almost immediately. “Hey, why didn’t I ever think of this myself? I look adorable. What do you think, sugarplum?”

            “I think I have got to get a life beyond the supernatural,” you answered, eyes lingering on his ears. You repeatedly told yourself that you were not going to scratch his ears. “This is crazy, but you can talk again, so you can figure this out in another person’s house.”

            Gabriel shrugged. “Fair enough.” His tail twitched. “Besides, I believe I owe the drunk Winchester an involuntary blood donation.”